


A Lonely World

by Sarbear08



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Angst, Chloe Decker Needs A Hug, Eventual Happy Ending, Everyone Needs A Hug, F/M, Fix-It, Lucifer Morningstar (Lucifer TV) Needs A Hug, Maze just wants to stab things, POV Chloe, POV Lucifer, Protective Lucifer Morningstar (Lucifer TV), Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-03
Updated: 2019-08-25
Packaged: 2020-06-03 14:34:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 10
Words: 16,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19466011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sarbear08/pseuds/Sarbear08
Summary: Set post-season 4: Chloe Decker is left standing alone on the balcony of Lucifer's penthouse, devastated. She'd only just found him, and now she must deal with the void in her heart created by his absence. Will she ever see him again?





	1. Gone

**Author's Note:**

> As always, any feedback or comments would be much appreciated. :)  
> Enjoy!

She opened her eyes only to find herself staring at the now-empty balcony—he was gone. Tears streamed down her face with the realization and she collapsed to the ground, her body racked with sobs. She wasn’t sure how long she’d stayed there, but it was still dark when she finally dragged herself up off the floor. Her body ached and she no longer had any tears left to cry.

She staggered across the penthouse and into his closet, where she peeled her clothes off and picked up one of his shirts—a dark blue one. Pulling it tightly around her, she dragged herself into his bed, cocooning herself in the satin sheets. She closed her eyes and inhaled—the sheets still held his sweet scent, like he was still there with her.

Once she finally managed to fall asleep, she dreamed of him. She dreamt that she woke up to find it was all just a nightmare—he was still here on earth. She dreamt of his fingers brushing tenderly against her cheek, assuring her that everything would be okay. She dreamt of his soft kisses against her lips.

 _“I love you,”_ she’d told him, desperately hoping it would be enough to make him stay. _“Please,”_ she’d begged, _“don’t leave.”_

 _“My first love was never Eve, it was you, Chloe. It always has been.”_ And then he was gone. She’d found herself staring across the balcony into the empty darkness of the night.

She opened her eyes to find her face wet with fresh tears. Sniffling, she rolled over and glanced at the clock on his nightstand: 12:47pm. She’d slept for almost twelve hours. Thankfully, Dan was scheduled to have Trixie for the next few days—she couldn’t even begin to form coherent thoughts. Before she rolled back over, a piece of paper next to the clock caught her eye. Her name was written across the front in swooping, graceful calligraphy. It was from _him_.

She reached forward, hands shaking, and tentatively picked it up. Opening it, she began to read:

_Chloe,_

_It is my hope that you will never need to read this letter, however, if you are, then I suppose it means I’ve returned to hell. I intend to make sure you are well taken care of. In the top drawer of my nightstand you will find papers transferring the ownership of Lux to you—you should have no issues with this, I’ve already discussed it with my lawyers. The combination to my safe is your birthday. It all belongs to you now._

_I’ve never had to say goodbye to anyone I’ve cared so deeply for. I suppose I’m not sure how to say it to you, so I’m just going to write it. I want you to know that I never intended to hurt you. That is the last thing I ever wanted to do. But I have to go back. If I don’t, I can’t guarantee your safety and I can’t imagine losing you; that would truly be hell. The past three years of our partnership have been nothing but incredible. I’d never imagined I deserved to feel the way that I feel when I’m with you. Chloe, we were wrong about the prophecy; it was you all along. You were and will always be my first and only love. I hope you can understand how deeply sorry I am for leaving you. I will never forget you, Chloe._

_Yours until the end of time,_

_Lucifer_

The words on the page began to blur as tears filled her eyes. She let the letter slip through her fingers and flutter to the floor as a new wave of tears began to stream down her face. She pulled the covers up to her face and inhaled his soft scent, trying to find some small form of comfort in it. She gathered the silk sheets into her fists and squeezed them, afraid if she let go she’d fall into a million pieces. She wasn’t sure how long it took, but she eventually cried herself back to sleep.

******

The familiar _ding_ of the elevator jolted her awake. She clutched at the sheets in anticipation as she waited for the doors to open, watching them with wide eyes. _Maybe he would step out and tell her that everything was okay; that he would stay with her and never leave her side again. She would run into his arms and hold him close. She’d wrap her legs around him and kiss every inch of his face. She’d_ …all hope instantly left her as she saw Ella step out of the elevator.

Her eyes glazed over and she stared off into the distance. _It wasn’t him._ She blinked, feeling as though she’d just been stabbed in the gut. _It wasn’t him. He wasn’t coming back._ An empty, hollow feeling spread through her, gnawing away at what little sanity she had left. Her throat burned and her eyes ached from crying.

“Chloe! Oh my God! Are you okay?” Ella ran across the penthouse to Chloe, seeing her telltale puffy eyes and the lost expression on her face. She sunk down on the bed next to her.

“Chloe?” She repeated. When she got no response to suggest that Chloe had heard her, she lifted her hands and gently turned Chloe’s face towards her. Chloe blinked, slowly bringing herself back to her painful reality.

“Chloe?” Ella said again, “what happened? Where’s Lucifer? We were worried when you didn’t show up for work, we’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

“He’s gone,” Chloe managed to whisper before unbidden, hot tears streamed down her face once more.

“What? Gone? What do you mean gone? Is…he is coming back, right?” Ella let out a shaky laugh. Chloe shook her head slowly, no longer able to speak through the tears.

“Oh Chloe,” Ella wrapped her in a hug, tears now silently falling down her own cheeks. She held Chloe until they had both stopped crying.

Chloe was exhausted. Her body was numb and there was a deep pain throbbing in her chest. _She’d only just found him, and now_ … She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to focus on Ella’s arms still around her. When she finally felt she would be able to speak, she slowly pulled back.

“He’s gone,” she whispered again. Ella stayed silent, understanding that Chloe needed some time to gather her thoughts. “He’s gone and he’s not coming back.”

“Where did he go?” Ella asked softly, trying to make sense of the situation.

“He went…home,” except he didn’t. Not really. Hell would never be his home. She could tell how much he hated being there. Yet he went back without hesitation… _for her_. He was living in his own hell… _for her_. To protect _her_. She buried her face in her hands and Ella wrapped her in another long hug.

“I’m sure he’ll come back,” Ella whispered, stroking Chloe’s hair. “He always comes back,” she tried to convince Chloe, although she wasn’t so sure herself. She’d never seen Chloe like this and it scared her.

Chloe shook her head and retrieved his note from the floor for Ella to look at. “Not this time,” she whispered.

*******

Ella stayed with her for a few hours until Chloe asked her to leave so she could have some time alone. She reluctantly rolled out of his bed and wandered over to the bar. Sinking down onto one of the stools, she chose a bottle from his vast collection. She took a long swig of the amber liquid, not bothering to use a glass.

She wasn’t sure how long she sat there or how much she’d had to drink, but the empty bottles on the bar told her she should be very drunk by now. She could still feel a slight throbbing in her chest, but the alcohol had at least dulled it. It was a small comfort. She slid off the stool, holding the counter for support as the room around her spun wildly. She began to stagger back towards his bedroom. A wave of nausea washed over her suddenly and she stumbled into the bathroom, barely making it, before retching into the toilet. She felt too sick to stand up, so she lay in a pitiful heap on the bathroom floor for what felt like hours. Finally she stood, wiping her mouth and managed to drag herself back into his bed. Her head had barely touched the pillow before she fell back asleep.

She woke to rays of sunlight shining through the large glass windows. She wasn’t sure how long she had slept. She wasn’t even sure of how much time had passed since he’d left her. She groaned as she rolled over to look at the clock: 1:19pm. She rubbed her temples, trying to relieve the pounding in her head. One glance at the line of now-empty bottles that littered the bar told her she’d had far too much to drink.

She dragged herself out of his bed and wandered into the bathroom, gingerly peeking at her reflection in the mirror—her hair was in a knotted mess and her eyes were puffy and bright red from all the tears she’d shed. His blue shirt was stained down the front and she imagined what he’d say if he saw it. _Bloody hell, that shirt was Prada. Yes dear, the Devil does indeed wear Prada._ A soft smile pulled at her lips as she imagined him but she quickly pushed the thought from her mind. She didn’t think her eyes could handle any more tears.

Upon further inspection of the stains, she realized they were dried vomit, reminiscent of her heavy drinking earlier. After peeling her clothes off, she stepped into the shower, letting the soothing, hot water run down her body. She pumped a generous amount of his body wash into her hands, taking her time to clean herself, relishing in his scent. She closed her eyes and let the spray run over her face. Both her body and mind were numb. She couldn’t feel anything. She didn’t _want_ to feel anything. She rubbed at her eyes. She felt exhausted despite the fact that she had mostly just slept for the last few days—at least she assumed she’d been in the penthouse for a couple of days—she was too devastated from her loss to concern herself with the passage of time. Everything seemed insignificant without him there.

Thank God for Dan—Ella had told her he’d been distracting Trixie from her sudden absence, understanding that she needed some time—but maybe…maybe God did all this. He obviously didn’t care enough to stop it. Maybe He was to blame for all this. He was, after all, the one who cast Lucifer down to hell in the first place. Rage began to bubble up inside her.

“Damn you,” she whispered, quietly at first, until suddenly she was shouting and screaming at the top of her lungs, “Damn you! Why did you do this?! How could you?! Your own son!” She punched the tiled wall so hard blood trickled from her knuckles. “How could you?” she asked again, looking up as if she expected an answer. But he wouldn’t fix this. He _did_ this. He let it happen. God wouldn’t help her. He wouldn’t help Lucifer but…maybe his son could? Hope flickered through her. Amenadiel was an angel—he had wings. Why couldn’t he just fly her down to hell to see Lucifer? She might not be able to bring him back, but it was at least a start.

She stepped out of the shower feeling a small spark of hope for the first time since Lucifer left. From the use of his body wash, she could smell his comforting scent like he was right there beside her. She grabbed a new shirt from his closet—a vibrant white, this time—and her jeans, and set off to Linda and Amenadiel’s house.

******

Amenadiel’s eyes filled with sorrow as Chloe told him what had happened. What Lucifer had done to keep her safe. To keep baby Charlie safe.

“But you have wings right?” she pressed.

“Chloe…” he said, trying to stop her.

“You can take me there. To see him. Please,” she choked out.

“Chloe, humans cannot cross into heaven or hell. Not without being dead. I’m so sorry, but I can’t help you.”

“No please,” she pleaded with him. “You could go at least. And check on him.”

“I’m afraid I can’t even do that, Chloe. I’m an angel, I’m not exactly welcome down there.”

“No. Please,” tears began to run down her face, “I can’t…I don’t know what to do…without him.” She collapsed into his arms. No one could help. She would never see Lucifer again.


	2. Ashes

“Bloody ash,” Lucifer mumbled to himself, futilely swiping at his suit as he wandered through the corridors of rock. He thought he’d only been in Hell for a few days—a week at most—but it was impossible to tell. It had felt like thirty years had passed. _Thirty years. Would he even still recognize her?_ He shook his head, desperately trying to block out the painful thoughts that clawed at his mind like a wild animal, tearing to shreds the remainder of his sanity.

“Hello.” He purred as he came to a halt, having reached his destination. He placed his hand on the door—it was cool in contrast to the fiery air that surrounded him. He shifted his weight into the palm of his hand and the door creaked as it slowly swung open. He blinked as he took in the sight before him: Marcus Pierce—Cain—held a gun to dear Charlotte’s head. She was begging and pleading for him to spare her life. His finger twitched against the trigger. His entire body shook and a single, lonely tear rolled down his cheek—he was resisting. He didn’t want to kill her.

“Please,” Charlotte sobbed, “I don’t want to die. I’m scared. Please.”

“I’m sorry. I can’t stop it.” Pierce said, his voice shaking.

The shot echoed through the small room as Charlotte’s lifeless body slumped to the floor.

“I’m sorry.” Pierce whispered.

“Why?” Charlotte’s voice filled the room, “Why?!” It screamed. “Why?! I was innocent! Why did you do this? What have you done?”

“I’m sorry!” Pierce shouted. He glanced down at his hands—they were covered in her bright red blood—he let the gun slip from his fingers and clatter to the stone floor.

Suddenly in the blink of an eye, Charlotte appeared before Pierce again.

“Please, I don’t want to die,” she begged.

Pierce looked down to the gun that had reappeared in his trembling hands. He swiftly raised the gun to point at Charlotte and closing his eyes, he pulled the trigger, the shot echoing throughout the room.

“Enough!” Lucifer barked, breaking the dark silence that had filled the area. Pierce jumped.

“What are you…are you a part of my hell now too?” he asked.

Lucifer gave him a wicked grin. “I _am_ hell, Cain.” He spit his name like it was a bug that had somehow found its way into his mouth.

Pierce’s breath caught in his throat, “you’re really here? You’re _real_?”

“Yes.” Lucifer sighed. “Glad to see you got exactly what you deserved.” He gestured to the room surrounding them.

“No thanks to you,” Pierce mumbled.

“You’re very welcome.” Lucifer purred, his voice sliding across his tongue like honey.

Pierce glared daggers at him. “What do you want from me, Lucifer?” He asked, clearly getting impatient.

“What? Eager to get back to killing dear Charlotte, are we?”

Rage burned behind Pierce’s eyes, threatening to consume him at any moment. “What. Do. You. Want?” he asked again, through clenched teeth.

“Just wanted to check on an old friend,” Lucifer said, a wolfish grin spreading across his face. He was playing with Pierce.

“Why are you here?” Pierce asked him, sneering. “Shouldn’t you be spending time with your dear Chloe now that I’m stuck down here?”

It was impossible to miss the flash of fire that ignited in Lucifer’s eyes. Pierce had hit a nerve.

The flames were gone just as quickly as they appeared. “Just wanted to stop and smell the torture,” Lucifer responded gleefully, his façade suddenly returned to full strength.

“Right, well you should probably get back to her. She’ll be missing you.”

The flames ignited once again, lapping at Lucifer’s dark irises.

“Unless…” Dramatic pause. “You scared her off. She found out who you _really_ are and she was… _terrified_. Of. You. She couldn’t _stand_ you. She wanted _nothing. To. Do. With. You._ ” He grinned a wicked grin, like an animal who’d just caught his prey.

“You know _nothing_ of what happened!” Lucifer bellowed. He stalked forward and grabbed Pierce by the neck, lifting him clear off his feet. Pierce laughed manically as he spluttered for air.

“What? You’re going to kill me? Again? Go ahead. Do it.” He taunted.

In one swift motion Lucifer threw him across the room. He landed hard enough against the wall that cracks appeared throughout the stone. Pierce chuckled, rising to his feet and wiping the blood from his face.

“It seems I’ve hit a _weak spot_ ,” he provoked further. He chuckled, shaking his head in mock disappointment. “Too bad your _dear_ Detective doesn’t love you back.” He pouted at Lucifer, feigning sympathy.

“YOU WILL NOT SPEAK OF HER AGAIN.” Lucifer thundered, his voice loud enough to shake the walls of the cell they stood in.

Pierce leaned back against the wall, a satisfied smirk coming to rest across his smug face. Lucifer took a deep breath. Pierce had been playing him like a fiddle from the moment he’d walked into the cell. _How could he have been so foolish to fall right into his trap?_

He turned abruptly and left the room. Tremors shook through his body from trying to hold himself together. He took another deep breath. He moved to shut the door behind him as he heard Pierce’s voice echo through the darkness. “Don’t worry, Lucifer. I’m sure she’ll find her way back to you. Find a way to come _here_ —to be with you.”

Lucifer narrowed his eyes, peering into the darkness. “Enjoy rotting in hell, Cain,” he spat before slamming the door behind him and making his way back to his unwanted throne.


	3. Goodbye

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise, it does get happier...eventually

_Ding._

Chloe groaned and rolled over, her hand searching blindly across her nightstand for her phone. She picked it up and reluctantly peeled her eyes open. 11:24am: she’d slept away most of the morning. She rubbed at her eyes, squinting as they slowly adjusted to the bright light emitting from the screen of her phone.

There was a new message from Dan: _Hey Chlo, is it okay if I bring Trix by later? Sometime after school? She’s been super worried about you. Me too. I hope you’re okay. Let me know._

Chloe let out a long sigh and rubbed at her sore, swollen eyes once more, willing herself awake. She glanced around her bedroom; clothes littered the floor along with broken pieces of a vase—she’d smashed it by throwing it angrily across the room late last night. It looked like an atomic bomb had gone off in her room. She’d have a hell of a time cleaning the mess up before Trixie and Dan got there.

 _4:00_ she texted back, hoping that would leave her enough time. With a groan, she dragged her heavy body out of her bed. Her eyelids felt heavy and her body was numb, yet an unwelcome, dull pain made her heart throb. She surveyed the room, trying to decide what seemingly insurmountable task she should attempt to tackle first.

She finally began by picking up her clothes and tossing them into a laundry basket. When she came across a handful of Lucifer’s dress shirts—she’d brought a few home from his penthouse—she pressed them to her face, inhaling the sweet scent of his cologne. She decided they would be the safest, tucked away from prying eyes, in her dresser. She reached out to open the top drawer, but it stuck fast. She pulled harder on it and the entire dresser groaned in opposition of her efforts.

“Damn it.” She yanked as hard as she could and with one final groan of objection, the entire drawer flew out of the unit. The momentum sent her flying backwards, landing in a heap on the floor. From the splintering sound she’d heard, she didn’t have to look to know that the drawer had broken—to what extent, she wasn’t sure.

“Shit,” she hissed. _Great. Just great. Now she had to deal with this too, before Dan and Trixie showed up._ Chloe let her head drop into her hands. _Too much. It was all too much to deal with._

 _Goodbye._ His voice echoed inside her head. Over and over, a broken record stuck on repeat. She squeezed her eyes shut, willing his voice to stop. _Goodbye._ Pulled at her hair. _Goodbye._ Covered her ears. _Goodbye._ Screamed. _Goodbye._ She couldn’t stop hearing it, so she curled up into a small, broken-hearted ball on the floor and cried until she had nothing left.

******

Chloe opened her eyes to the muffled sound of birds gleefully chirping outside her bedroom window. She groaned as she sat up, rubbing at her eyes. She hadn’t meant to fall asleep—she’d been doing that a lot lately: sleeping in an attempt to escape her sorrowful despair. _What time was it?_ She grabbed her phone from its resting place on her nightstand and looked at the time: 2:57pm. _Shit._ Dan and Trixie were going to be there in an hour and she was no closer to making her room look presentable. In fact, it looked worse now: the contents of her drawer were scattered haphazardly across the floor. She sighed and raked her fingers through her tangled hair.

Upon further inspection of the drawer, she’d found that it had only cracked down one side—not enough for it to fall apart completely. Thankfully, she managed to force the drawer back into the dresser. She began to pick up her clothes that had fallen, when she noticed something dark on the ground. Her gun. She left it in the bottom of the drawer when she was at home so Trixie wouldn’t find it. A dark thought flashed through her mind. _What if…_ she shook her head, trying to remove the idea from her mind. _But…it might work._

She sunk down to her knees beside the gun, wrapped her fingers around the cold metal, and picked it up with her trembling hands. She faintly remembered Amenadiel mentioning that humans decided where they went after they died based on their guilt. She had plenty of guilt: for the cases she couldn’t solve, the families she couldn’t provide closure for. For putting Trixie through the stress of wondering if her mommy was coming home at the end of each day. For betraying Lucifer and trying to send him back to hell. For not telling Lucifer how she felt earlier—perhaps things would have been different if she’d just told him in the first place.

At this point, she was quite sure she wouldn’t make it to Heaven. She took a deep breath as she clicked the safety off. Her hands shook as she slowly raised the gun to press the icy metal against her temple. _She could still be with him. This was the only way._ She was sure of it. Her finger hovered against the cold trigger of the gun. She closed her eyes, a single tear running down her cheek. She took a deep breath.

“Don’t do that!”

Chloe jumped in surprise, almost accidentally pulling the trigger. She turned the gun towards her dark room, cursing herself for not bothering to open the curtains.

“Who’s there?” she demanded, still trying to slow her heart.

A figure moved out from the shadows and the gun slipped from her fingers, clattering to the floor. Her jaw went slack as she gaped at the sight before her.

“Sorry I scared you,” the girl said. She stood at the end of Chloe’s bed her short, black hair bouncing as she spoke. “I didn’t mean to, truly.”

Her gaze followed Chloe’s shocked, too-wide eyes, “Oh! Oops. Sorry. I forgot how humans get with these things.” She shrugged her shoulders and her bright white wings folded, disappearing behind her back.

“W-wha…” Chloe stammered, her lips unable to form a coherent word.

“Sorry,” the girl apologized again. “Let me introduce myself.” She walked forwards, reaching Chloe in a matter of strides. She thrust her hand out towards her. “I’m Azrael, Lucifer’s sister.”

Chloe was too stunned to move and a garbled sound tumbled from her mouth.

“Dear Dad. I really didn’t mean to scare you. I didn’t break you, did I?” she asked, looking Chloe up and down, as if she’d be able to see what was wrong with her—like she was a broken doll that simply needed a new part.

“Hello?” She waved her hand in front of Chloe’s face. “Anyone home?”

Chloe blinked as she returned from her stunned stupor. She smacked Azrael’s hand away. “Stop that.”

“Oh! Thank Dad! I thought I broke you. I’m sorry, I forgot how humans tend to react to…well…you know.” She made a vague gesture over her shoulders.

“You’re Lucifer’s… _sister?_ ” Chloe asked, still in shock. _There was a freaking_ angel _in her bedroom._

“Yep!”

“So you’re Amenadiel’s sister?” Chloe said slowly, trying to wrap her head around the new information.

“Sure am!” Azrael replied cheerfully.

Chloe nodded, the fragmented shards of information gradually fitting together to form a somewhat intelligible image in her mind.

“Can _you_ help him, then?”

Azrael’s smile faltered for a moment.

“Unfortunately, I can only do so much,” she started. “And right now, I’m helping you.”

“But I don’t need help!” Chloe shouted, not meaning to raise her voice so loud.

Azrael gave her a ‘yeah right’ look and rolled her eyes. “Says the person who was about to kill herself so she could be with him.”

Chloe glared at her.

“Am I wrong?” she asked pointedly.

“No,” Chloe grumbled.

“Then let me help _you_.”

“But…” Chloe began to protest but Azrael cut her off with a dismissive wave of her hand.

“Nope. No buts. I. Am. Here. To. Help. You.” She said it slowly, like she was talking to a child. “And by the looks of it, you need it,” she added, glancing up and down the disheveled mess that was currently Chloe.

“Hey!”

“Just saying.” Azrael said, raising her hands in an ‘I’m innocent’ gesture.

“Fine,” Chloe let out a long sigh as Azrael sunk to the floor next to her. She placed her hands on Chloe’s shoulders, forcing her to look into her eyes.

“I promise: I am doing everything I can to help him. But right now, I need to help you, okay?”

A sudden, comforting warmth filled Chloe. She felt more whole than she had since he left. She nodded slowly, eyes filling to the brim with tears.

“For now, I think you just need someone to talk to, hey?”

Chloe sniffled and nodded, wiping at her eyes. “Thanks,” she whispered through her tears.

******

Shortly after Azrael left, the doorbell rang. _Perfect timing._ By some miracle, she’d just managed to finish cleaning up and she had put on a clean sweatshirt and sweatpants and thrown her hair up into a messy bun. She paused to glance at her reflection in the large mirror in her hallway—she could barely recognize the woman looking back at her. Her eyes were dull despite being red from all her crying and there were large, dark bags underneath them. Her hair was a matted, greasy mess. She looked like hell. She let out an audible snort at the irony. Hopefully Trixie wouldn’t be able to tell how much of a wreck she was.

“Mommy!” Trixie ran straight into Chloe’s arms as soon as she opened the door.

“Monkey,” Chloe breathed, squeezing her burning eyes shut as they filled with tears. She kneeled down to the floor to wrap her daughter up in a hug. The feelings she had tried to push down—tried to suppress—bubbled up inside of her, threatening to spill over. Pain, torture, devastation, misery, despair—all paled in comparison to the things she felt.

Dan glanced down at her: red eyes, dark bags, disheveled hair and clothes. It was clear she hadn’t slept well—or at all—in a while. Without a second thought, Dan knelt down to the floor and wrapped his family in a warm embrace. He pulled back briefly enough to look into Chloe’s eyes. _Thank you,_ she mouthed silently before burying her face in his neck, sandwiching Trixie between them, and inhaling his comforting, familiar scent.

******

“Come on, baby,” Chloe patted the couch next to her. “You get to pick the movie tonight.” Dan had left Trixie at her apartment for a much-needed night with her daughter. Chloe watched intently as Trixie selected a movie and put it in the DVD player. She crawled up on the couch and snuggled close to Chloe, who wrapped her arms tightly around her daughter as if her life depended on it.

They got about twenty minutes into the movie—which turned out to be _Frozen_ , of course—which meant Chloe’s mind had twenty minutes too many to turn the events of the last few days over in her head. Lucifer was _gone…_

“Mommy? Mommy, you’re hurting me.” Trixie’s small voice pulled Chloe from her spiraling thoughts. She hastily released her daughter from the rigid, vice-like grip her arms had turned into.

“Sorry monkey,” Chloe quickly apologized.

“Mommy, what’s wrong?”

“Hmm?”

“Why are you crying?” Trixie’s big, brown eyes began to pool with tears, threatening to spill over at any moment.

“Baby, I’m not…” Chloe stopped short, realizing she _had_ in fact, been crying—she hadn’t even noticed.

“Trixie, babe, I…” Trixie raised her eyebrows at her mother; a clear indication that she knew something was amiss. Chloe took a deep breath, steadying herself—there was no sense in keeping this from Trixie anymore now that she knew something was going on.

“Trixie…it’s Lucifer…” Chloe’s voice broke. She wasn’t sure if she would be able to hold herself together, the dam of her emotions about to crumble and allow her tears to break forth.

Little, delicate hands grasped at hers. “It’s okay, mommy. You can tell me.”

Chloe’s heart burst at the maturity her daughter showed and it made her wonder how often Trixie had been successfully able to hide her emotions in the past. Chloe sniffled, pulling together the last of her strength she could muster.

“Baby, L-Lucifer, he had to go…home.” Chloe couldn’t bear to hold the tears back any longer and the dam burst, blurring her vision.

“Home?” Trixie asked, pondering the concept. “Mommy, is he back in hell?”

Chloe almost choked at her daughter’s sudden bluntness. “What?” She demanded.

“Hell. That is his home, isn’t it? He’s the Devil.” She added with childish innocence, unaware of the implausibility most people associated with the idea.

“Yeah,” Chloe whispered, still shocked at how intuitive her daughter was.

“Is he coming back?”

“I don’t think he can, baby.”

“Sure he can. He’s the Devil. He can do whatever he wants.” Trixie insisted.

“I don’t think it works like that, monkey.”

Trixie shrugged. “He’s an angel too. He can fly back.” Pause. “Are you okay, mommy?”

Chloe was only able to nod and pull her daughter into her arms, holding her close.

“I just really miss him.”

“Don’t worry mommy, he’ll find a way back. I know he will. That’s what you do for the people you love. For your family. Lucifer is family, isn’t he?”

“Of course he is, baby.” Chloe’s arms tightened around her daughter and they held each other in silence, unbidden tears streaming down their faces.


	4. Ain’t No Rest For The Wicked

It was the perfect opportunity—he chuckled to himself as he searched corridor after corridor for the correct cell—demons running through the streets of Los Angeles. _Perfect._ He didn’t even have to worry about providing a distraction. Lucifer had single-handedly done that on his own. He snickered again—a gut churning, maniacal sound.

“Ah, here we are,” he muttered to himself.

The stone door creaked as it swung open. Michael had been right: the pendant he’d given him earlier could open any door in hell. He stepped into the room and cautiously looked around: a man sat on the floor in front of an exquisite banquet. The feast looked delectable and the mouthwatering smell it emitted was—ironically—heavenly. The man reached forward, mouth visibly watering. He let out a disgruntled noise—the garbled sound got caught in his throat and sent spittle flying across the room—as his hand passed directly through the food. It was only a ghostly apparition, yet the scent wafting through the room was all too real.

The man stood, pulling at his hair. His raised arms lifted the hem of his shirt to reveal the ghastly sight of his ribs. It looked like he hadn’t eaten a meal—or anything—for years. If he were still on earth, he certainly would have famished and expired by now. But instead, he was forced to live through all the pain that accompanied such a death, all whilst everything he desired was held in front of him, just shy of his reach. It was…hell.

The man turned and he finally saw the ominous figure standing in the doorway of his cell. His eyes were wild and empty—searching for desires that were never to be fulfilled.

“W-who are you?” the man stuttered.

“I am your ticket out of here.” He held his hand out for the other man to shake. “My name is Cain. Nice to finally meet your acquaintance, Malcolm.”

“H-how do you know my name?” Malcolm asked. His eyes trailed over Pierce’s shoulder to the wide open door of his cell. Malcolm’s eyes widened, “and how did you do _that?_ ”

“It pays to have friends in…high places.” _Literally._

Malcolm smiled a wicked grin. “It certainly does.” He grasped Pierce’s hand and shook it firmly. “Very nice to meet you.”

“What do you say we get out of here?”

“That sounds excellent, my friend.” Malcolm slapped Pierce on the back as they exited the room together. “What now?”

“Well, I know Lucifer had a hand in sending you here. So what do you say about revenge? Give him his own hell?”

Malcolm’s lips curled up into a villainous smile. “What are we waiting for?”

******

“So, what did Lucifer do to you?” Malcolm asked as they waited for Pierce’s contact to arrive.

Pierce glanced at Malcolm, unwilling to share with him.

“Look man, I get it: we’ve all got our secrets. But come on. What did he do to piss you off? I mean, you’re clearly pissed about something. So…what was it? Did he steal your girl or something?”

Pierce snorted, “yeah, something like that.”

Malcolm raised his eyebrows, encouraging Pierce to keep going.

“Well, for starters…he killed me.” Pause. “And yes, he did actually steal someone I’d grown to care for. I lov…she was…different than most women.”

“Ahhh.” Malcolm grinned. “Tell me more. Was she hot?” He grinned a predatory grin, showing all his yellowed teeth.

“Yeah, she was…but that wasn’t all she was. She was…different. She uh…had good instincts. She was,” Pause. “Special. But she chose _him_.” He curled his lip up in disgust.

“Wait a second, are you talking about Decker? _Chloe_ Decker?”

Confusion clouded Pierce’s face, “yeah, I am actually. Did you know her?”

“Yeah. She fucked up my life pretty good.”

Pierce laughed, “ruined my life too.”

“She did have a great ass though.” Malcolm said, smiling nauseatingly at the thought. Pierce rolled his eyes in disgust.

He grinned as the good times he’d had with Chloe came washing back, unbidden. A small part of him had really loved her. He had truly believed that they could live happily together. But that part of him was dead. He felt nothing but hatred—towards Lucifer and everything that he loved.

The sound of rhythmic flapping filled the silence and in the blink of an eye, he was standing right in front of them: the Archangel Michael.

“Ah, nice of you to finally decide to show up.” Pierce shot a glare at him.

“Well it does take some time to sneak my way into hell, even if there is a demon rebellion happening on earth.” With a shrug of his shoulders, his gleaming wings folded neatly into his back.

“Oh no. No no no.” Malcolm said, slowly backing a few steps away. “The last time I made a deal with an angel, I got screwed.”

Michael sighed, “you promised me, Cain. You gave me your word that this would work.”

“Yes, of course it will. He’ll come around.” He motioned towards Malcolm. “Give us a moment, Michael.”

“Come on man, you said you wanted revenge, right?” he said as he pulled Malcolm away from the angel. “Well, this is your revenge. We’re going to bring Lucifer his own personal hell. Make him suffer like he did to us.” Malcolm started blankly at Pierce, unconvinced. “We can trust him. We go way back,” he added.

“Cain,” Malcolm’s eyes widened in understanding, “from the bible? From, like, the beginning of time?”

“What is taking so long?” Michael’s voice boomed from behind them.

“Just trust him,” Pierce said, “trust _me_.”

“You can trust me,” Michael added, making it clear his angelic hearing had allowed him to listen to their entire conversation. “I am not a huge fan of Lucifer either. Or Dad, for that matter. I’ve a bone to pick with him, as you humans would say. You see, I performed many miracles for humanity, at Dad’s request. And at his request, I allowed another man to take credit for all those miracles. I am sick and tired of Dad using me as a means to an end. Lucifer _must_ stay in hell, and as long as that human is still on earth, he will try _everything_ he can to get back to her. So I intend to end that, once and for all.”

“I’ll drag his beloved human—Dad’s beloved toy—right down here to hell. I’ve done it before and I’ll not hesitate to do it again. You may have heard of it, in fact: a fraud of a man named Jesus.”

Malcolm’s jaw dropped open. “ _You_ knew _Jesus_?”

“Unfortunately, yes. I despised the man. Father’s greatest creation.” He mocked. “A _miracle_.” He spat—literally spit as he said the word ‘miracle.’ “Turning water to wine. That was all me! All of it. Was. Me.” He said, hatred burning behind his dark eyes. “And now, Dad’s got a new toy. A new miracle. _Her_.” His body shuddered with rage as he uttered the word ‘her.’

“And my dear brother just happens to care for her very much. It will be equivalent to killing two birds with one stone, as you’d say.”

A wicked grin crossed Pierce’s face, “well, what do you say?” he asked, turning to Malcolm.

“Where do we begin?” he replied greedily.


	5. To Hell And Back

_Six months later._

“Mommy! We’re going to be late for school!” Trixie’s voice carried up the stairs.

“Coming, baby,” Chloe rolled over and dragged herself out of bed. The past six months had been difficult. Impossible even. Trixie had been the only thing that had convinced Chloe to keep going—that and her infrequent chats with Azrael, who made it a habit to appear when Chloe was at her worst. But everything she did felt empty and without purpose. It felt pointless without her partner there.

She dropped Trixie off at school, thankful that she had the day off—she hadn’t been working much. It felt too empty to be at work without her partner by her side. Instead of going back to her apartment, she headed straight for Lux. She’d been spending all her spare time there, a part of her secretly hoping that she’d walk in to find him there, playing the piano like he’d never left.

Her heart sunk when the elevator doors opened to reveal the empty penthouse. She grabbed a bottle off the bar and took a long swig before crawling into his bed. She took a deep breath, inhaling his now-faint scent. She closed her eyes, imagining his face—she’d committed it to memory that night on the balcony. She quickly succumbed to sleep.

******

Chloe woke to an intense heat radiating across her skin. She opened her eyes and squinted. _She must be dreaming._ The sky around her was filled with bright shades of red and orange and a dark haze hung low in the humid air. Despite there not being a single cloud in the sky, dark flakes of snow drifted down around her. She stood up slowly and looked around to find herself surrounded in dark rocks that created a corridor of sorts. Upon further inspection of the snow that had landed in her hair and on her clothes, she realized it was actually hot ash.

Her skin began to sting with the heat that surrounded her and she suddenly found it quite difficult to breathe in the hot air. She looked around for any indication of where she might be: a large rock protruding in the distance caught her eye. She decided to follow the path that way; if she could climb it she might be able to figure out where she was. As she walked, blood curdling screams suddenly pierced through the silence—the tumultuous sound rang through her ears like knives. She froze in place with fear, listening intently until they stopped. She took a shaky breath and continued walking, steadying herself with the rocks on either side of her.

Soon, her clothes were soaked through with sweat. She raked her fingers through her hair, peeling the sticky strands from her neck. The further she walked, the hotter it seemed to get. She looked upwards, but couldn’t see any sign of the sun. _Where was she?_ More screams made her jump—they sounded all too real. She pinched the hot skin on her forearm, which only served to send an agonizing jolt of pain running through her arm. But she didn’t wake up. Shaking, she pinched her arm again. And again. A sick feeling rose in her stomach.

She continued stumbling along the path, unsure of how much time had passed. It should have only been a few minutes but it seemed like she’d been walking for hours. She rounded a corner only to be met with frantic hands grabbing at her clothes and hair, pulling her fatigued body to the ground. She screamed and swatted wildly at the hands that had seemingly appeared from thin air. Once freed, she crawled backwards across the dirt until her back was safely pressed against the rocks on the other side of the path. In front of her, bars protruded from a section of the rock wall, making a cave-like cell. Inside was a man, still reaching through the bars towards her, his eyes wild with unadulterated terror.

“Help me,” he croaked.

Chloe gasped as she saw his arms—it was a horrendous sight—they were burned raw with flesh hanging sickeningly off of them. She put a hand to her stomach, trying to settle the sudden waves of nausea that rolled over her. She’d seen many grisly crime scenes, but this…this was different. She blinked and his arms were back to normal, fully healed. _How…_ She didn’t have time to think about his miraculous healing: flames appeared from nowhere, licking hungrily at his arms first before moving to the rest of his body. He screamed, slapping at his burning arms, trying desperately to extinguish the flames. He dropped to the ground and rolled in the dirt in a futile attempt to smother the fire. The rancid smell of burning flesh hit her suddenly and she leaned to the side, vomiting.

She was too scared to move. She squeezed her eyes shut and covered her ears, trying to block out the horrid sounds of his screams. Suddenly, he fell silent. She slowly opened her eyes to see his charred body lying lifeless on the ground of his cell. She covered her mouth, trying to fight the overwhelming feeling of nausea. Shaking, she managed to climb to her feet, continuing on her walk with a renewed sense of urgency towards the large protrusion of rock, which seemed suddenly closer than she’d remembered.

As she walked away from the cell, she heard a scuffling from behind her. She spun around to see the man reaching for her through the bars. His skin was once again no longer burned.

“Help me,” he begged her.

“What the hell,” she breathed, unable to comprehend what she was seeing.

“No. Please. No! Not again!” the man jumped backwards as the flames ignited across his skin once more. He clawed at his flesh, ripping large mounds of skin from his arms as he frantically tried to put the flames out.

Chloe turned and ran, head spinning wildly. She ignored the burning sensation in her lungs as she ran faster and faster, farther and farther. _This was definitely not a dream._ Black dots danced across her blurred vision but she pushed forward, determined, and continued running as fast as she could. Suddenly, she found herself at the base of the tall rock that reached upwards towards the sky. Without hesitating, she began to climb it. Her leg slipped as the rock under her gave way and she heard her jeans rip as they caught on the jagged rocks. She felt blood trickling from her knee, but kept climbing. She was almost able to see the top—there was a figure sitting at the peak of the rock, though she couldn’t see much more than an outline.

The black spots in her vision were getting larger—rendering her almost completely blind—and she was starting to feel dizzy. Her lungs felt like they were on fire and her skin burned from the intense heat. She dug her nails into the rock in an attempt to steady herself. She glanced upwards to find she hadn’t traveled as far up as she’d thought, even though she was sure she should have reached the top by now. Her hold on the rock started to slip and she swayed backwards. A shadow passed over top of her as her fingers slipped off the rocks, sending her plummeting backwards. A strangled scream escaped from her throat as the air rushed past her.

Suddenly she was in someone’s arms. She felt oddly safe there. She rested her head against their chest…and inhaled a strangely familiar scent. 

“Lucifer?” She asked weakly before the world went black.

******

She awoke to sounds of hushed whispering and weakly opened her eyes, glancing around the room she was in. Despite the darkness that enveloped the room, she could see the shadows of two figures standing in the corner. She determined that must be where the whispers were coming from.

“…well she doesn’t look dead. But how the hell can she be here if she’s not dead?”

 _Dead?_ Her lungs burned as she took in a deep breath of hot air. She blinked once. Twice. As her eyes adjusted to the lightless room, she realized it was quite similar to the cell she had seen earlier; dark rocks covered the walls and there was a gap in the wall where a small tunnel led away from the room.

“They’ll come for her. It’s only a matter of time before they find us.”

Chloe’s ears perked up as the voices got louder, carrying through the small space.

“I am bloody well aware of that,”

She knew that British accent anywhere. “Lucifer?” she croaked.

The figures turned towards her as she struggled to sit up. Tears of joy welled in her eyes as he got closer to her. It really was him. She flung her arms around him as he sat next to her, burying her face in his chest and breathing in his sweet scent.

“How are you feeling?” He asked softly.

“I’m okay now,” she whispered, tightening her grip around him.

“Gross.”

Chloe jumped at the sound, having momentarily forgotten about the second figure in the room. It walked towards them until Maze’s face appeared beside them in the dim light.

“Maze?” Chloe’s head was suddenly filled with an incessant pounding. _Where was she?_

“Decker,” Maze tipped her head in acknowledgment towards Chloe before she turned back to Lucifer, “I’ll go keep watch. Give you two a moment.” She disappeared into the shadows as quickly as she’d come.

“Where are we?” Chloe asked weakly.

Chloe felt the rise and fall of his chest as he took a deep breath. “Hell.”

She chuckled into his lapel at the response. “Yeah, right. I’m serious, where are we?”

“Unfortunately, I am not in fact, joking.”

Suddenly the revelation hit her: the hot air, the ash, the man who kept burning to death, the screams. “Oh my Go…” His finger pressing against her lips stopped her mid-sentence.

“I suggest you do not utter His name down here,” he said sternly.

“Oh my…wow,” she took a moment to wrap her head around the situation. “Am I dead?” She asked him in a small voice, not wanting to hear the answer.

“No,” he assured her, “I don’t believe you are. I’m not sure how, but you are very much alive right now.”

“Oh. Good,” she finally pulled back from their embrace, confusion clouding her face, “but Amenadiel said that humans couldn’t…” A loud crash echoed through the room, causing them both to jump. Seconds later, Maze came running down from the opening, dark red blood trickling down the side of her face.

“They found us. We won’t be able to hold them off for long.” She turned and disappeared back into the darkness.

“What? What’s going on?”

Lucifer pressed his hands together and looked upwards, closing his eyes in concentration.

“Lucifer? Are you praying?” Chloe asked, eyebrows knotting together in confusion.

The commotion in the corridor grew louder and closer by the second.

“What’s going on?” she asked again.

“The demons know you’re here,” Lucifer finally explained. “They’re trying to…kill you. There shouldn’t be any living people down here. _You_ shouldn’t be down here.” Seeing the fear on her face, he grabbed her hands and squeezed them tight. “I’ll keep you safe, don’t worry. You have my word; no harm will come to you.”

She nodded and wrapped her hands tighter around his. “I believe you,” she whispered.

She flinched as another loud crash came from the corridor. Lucifer protectively pulled her closer to him, making sure his body was between her and the opening of the corridor. Suddenly, there was a gust of wind and Amenadiel appeared, shrouded in a bright white light.

“Just in time brother,” Lucifer said, standing and pulling Chloe with him over to where Amenadiel stood.

“Wait, no,” Chloe gasped, understanding why Amenadiel was here. He was going to take her back to earth…and away from Lucifer.

“Now is not the time to argue, Chloe,” Lucifer said sternly, “this is the only way to keep you safe.”

“No, don’t do this Lucifer. Please. Don’t do this again,” she pleaded with him, tears threatening to fall at any moment.

Suddenly a stream of demons flooded through the entry to the cave.

“Go! Now brother!” Lucifer shoved Chloe into Amenadiel’s arms.

“No!” She kicked and thrashed but the angel had a strong grip on her. Time slowed as Chloe desperately tried to hold onto Lucifer’s hand. _She couldn’t lose him again._ His expression was distant, save for a single tear that rolled down his cheek as he slid his hand from hers. His face gave way to burned, raw flesh as he turned to face the demons that were storming the room.

“Lucifer!” Chloe heard herself screaming for him before her feet left the ground and the world turned to black once more.

******

Chloe sucked in a tentative breath; the cool air was a refreshing comfort to her sore lungs. She peeled her eyes open to see Amenadiel sitting beside her. She looked around in confusion—she was on the couch in Amenadiel and Linda’s house.

“Chloe, how are you feeling?” he asked.

She turned to see Linda sitting on the coffee table beside the couch. She gave her a reassuring smile. Chloe rubbed her head, trying to clear her thoughts. _What happened?_ The memories suddenly came back to her in an overwhelming rush. She had been in hell. She had seen Lucifer. But then Amenadiel…

“Why did you do that?” Chloe turned to him, hatred blazing in her eyes.

“Chloe, they…”

“No!” she shouted, not letting him finish, “I was with him! You took me away from him! You _left_ him there! How could you?!” She pounded at his chest with her fists, blind with rage. “How could you?” she sputtered through her tears before the grief consumed her and she collapsed into his arms.

“I am so sorry Chloe,” he said sadly.

Linda rubbed her hand up and down Chloe’s back, trying to provide her with some form of comfort.

“It’s not fair,” Chloe whispered through her tears, “it’s not fair.”

The image of the menacing demons surrounding Lucifer—like animals encircling their prey—appeared in her mind’s eye and she sat bolt upright, her body shaking. “Is he alright? Did they ki…did they hurt him?”

“Yes, of course he is,” Amenadiel promised, “they weren’t there for him, they were there for you, Chloe.”

“Because I was alive. In hell?” she questioned.

“Yes,” he said softly, “Chloe, do you remember how you got there?”

“No, I don’t,” she furrowed her brow, trying to remember, “I fell asleep in the penthouse and when I woke up…I was there.”

Concern clouded Amenadiel’s expression as he hummed, trying to make sense of the situation. “Someone must have taken you down there,” he said to himself, “are you sure you don’t remember anything else?”

“No, I’m sorry,” Chloe croaked as Linda pulled her into an embrace.

“I lost him again,” Chloe whispered into Linda’s shoulder.

“I know it hurts,” Linda said, unable to think of anything else that could console her.


	6. Oh Hell No

“I AM YOUR KING. YOU WILL BOW TO ME.” Lucifer thundered, his voice echoing throughout the small cell.

Immediately, the demons all dropped to their knees in submission to their master.

“Return to your duties.” He demanded, eyeing them warily as they filed out of the room.

It wasn’t until they were all gone—save for Maze—that he let out the breath he’d been holding in. Maze walked over, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder, and looked deep into his eyes, rage burning wildly behind hers.

“Who did this?” she questioned. “Whoever dropped Chloe in hell either knew she’d survive, or was trying to _kill_ her.”

“I’ve no idea.” Lucifer answered, as equally perplexed as the demon.

“I’ll tear them to shreds.” Maze vowed coldly. “And stab them,” she added—as if that wasn’t apparent enough already.

“I should like to do the same Mazikeen. We will not rest until the Detective’s safety is assured; until we find the culprit and punish them.”

Maze grinned wickedly, imagining all the delicious ways she could torture the son of a bitch who did this.

******

Lucifer sat atop his throne, hands running absentmindedly through his hair. He had searched for weeks—possibly months even—and had found nothing to point them in the direction of the bastard responsible for the Detective’s trip to hell. He let out a long sigh. Finding the individual responsible was proving to be extremely difficult—at least Maze still had high hopes. She’d left earlier mumbling something about a new trail she was following, but Lucifer didn’t want to get his hopes up. He had begun to resign himself to the idea that they may never find out who had dragged the Detective down to hell.

 _Everything he had done was to protect her: leaving earth and returning to rule hell. Yet, she’d almost died at the hands of some…fool. If he hadn’t found her…_ He shook his head, not allowing the idea to creep into his mind. Amenadiel had fought his way down to hell through hordes of demons to rescue her; he would stop at nothing to ensure she was safe. But that didn’t stop the hollow feeling rising in his chest, threatening to consume him. It could have been possible. _They_ could have been possible. _‘I love you,’_ she’d said to him that night on the balcony, even after seeing his most monstrous side. He’d had everything he ever desired—he’d had _her_ —right there, in his grasp, and he’d foolishly let her slip away. Multiple times. But that was all before everything went to hell…literally.

He felt despairingly empty without her—without her beautiful, ice blue eyes looking into his. Without hearing her angelic laugh. Without feeling the warmth of her body against his. Hell, he even missed the Detective’s little spawn. He chuckled as he recalled her impossibly tiny arms wrapped fiercely around his legs, holding fast and refusing to let go. He’d much rather have that for the rest of his life than this empty, lifeless, loveless, godforsaken place.

Suddenly, the air stilled and an eerie silence fell across his realm. He looked around from his perch on the throne, examining his world: demons that had once been mindlessly milling about were now scuffling through the tunnels with an unspoken haste and the faint screams of the tortured had ceased to fill the air. With a single flap of his powerful wings, Lucifer’s feet came to rest on the ground at the base of the rock that held his throne. Dromos appeared almost instantly at his side, awaiting orders from his master.

“What on earth is going on?” Lucifer questioned the demon.

“Sire, it appears you have a visitor.”

 _Peculiar._ Lucifer hummed in thought. Only celestial beings could pop down for a ‘visit’ to hell, and seeing as none of his siblings were particularly fond of the place, he couldn’t see a reason for anyone to be paying him a visit.

“What are you talking abou…” He stopped as the warmth of radiant, divine light washed across his face. He followed Dromos’ gaze up towards the sky. Sure enough, a pair of large, ethereal white wings were slowly descending upon them. Lucifer nodded at Dromos, who slowly slunk away, blending into the shadows like he’d melded with them—angels and demons did not get along well.

“Brother,” Michael greeted Lucifer as the soft leather of his sandals came to rest upon the rocks.

“What are you doing here?” Lucifer asked him. “Come to bring the wrath of dear old Dad on me?” he mocked.

Michael let out a wild guffaw—it was a disturbing, primal sound. Lucifer allowed his brows to crinkle in confusion for a moment before standing the full length of his height and asking once more: “Why are you here, brother?” His voice boomed, echoing through the air.

Michael gave him a wide, predatory grin. “Why brother, I only came here to ask you how your beloved Detective is fairing.”

Hellfire ignited in Lucifer’s eyes, blazing brighter by the second, threatening to fully engulf him in a matter of moments.

“It was _you_.” He seethed.

“She was much more resilient to the atmosphere than I’d imagined she would be.”

“HOW DARE YOU!”

“Careful now, brother. You do not want to fight me.”

While Lucifer would never outwardly admit that he was afraid of his brother, Michael had always been…overbearing and he quickly found himself wishing that he had Maze by his side.

“Your demon will not come to save you. I’ve made sure of that.” Michael sneered, seeming to have read Lucifer’s mind.

“What have you done?” Lucifer asked, visibly shaking with rage.

“Do not worry, brother, I haven’t harmed her. Just led her on a—what do the humans call it—ah yes: a wild goose chase.”

_The trail Maze had picked up earlier: it was a trap created by Michael._

“Why?” Lucifer asked, “why did you do it? Were you _trying_ to kill her?”

“Well, that was the plan, yes. It didn’t quite work out though, no thanks to Amenadiel.” Michael curled his upper lip at his brother’s name. “Ah, no matter. I’ll just have to find another way to end her sorry, pathetic little life.”

Michael shrugged nonchalantly and flapped his wings, surging upwards. In a flash, Lucifer had grabbed Michael’s ankles and thrown him back onto the ground, his limp body bouncing across the jagged rocks.

Michael stood, methodically brushing dirt from his robes.

“You do not want to fight me, Samael,” he warned.

“Do not call me that!” Lucifer roared, charging at the other angel.

They both tumbled to the ground, landing blow after agonizing blow, each trying to subdue the other. Unfortunately for Lucifer, living in Heaven meant that Michael’s strength had increased tenfold, and the brawl slowly began to turn in favor of Michael. He landed a punch squarely on Lucifer’s jaw, sending him stumbling backwards. A swift knee connecting with his stomach forced him to sink to his knees in anguish, desperately trying to catch his breath.

Michael raised his fist, preparing to deliver the final blow—he had waited _millennia_ for this moment—but he never had the chance to bring his fist down upon Lucifer. He let out a wild scream of pain and sank to his knees, wheezing. Maze stood proudly behind him, one of her hell-forged blades sunk deeply into his back, directly in the space between his wings. Lucifer let out an audible sigh of relief, glad to see the demon. She rushed over to him and hauled him to his feet.

“Excellent timing, Mazikeen.”

She offered him a proud smile. “You okay?” she asked him, worry dancing behind her eyes.

He nodded weakly, “I believe you just saved my life,” he said gratefully.

“Dearie me,” Lucifer looked over Maze’s shoulder: his brother was rising to his feet, the dagger still lodged in his back. Rage burned beneath his eyes, consuming him with a feral desire for vengeance. The fighting began again and minutes passed—perhaps even hours—and still, the celestial brawl continued on. Thanks to Maze’s presence, it became slightly easier, and they eventually got the upper hand.

It looked as though the scales had tipped in their favor until Maze attempted to retrieve her dagger, still plunged into Michael’s back. He purposely waited until she was behind him and then, with inhuman speed, spun and flapped his wings with such force that she was sent hurdling backwards, carried on the current created by them. Her limbs flailed as she tried to gain purchase on something…anything. Her body smashed into the rocks with a sickening thud, her eyes refusing to open.

“Unfortunate,” Michael pouted, “that one was actually a challenge for me in battle.” He let out a sigh before adding matter-of-factly, “no matter, I must be off. Your dear Detective is waiting for me.” His sneer was that of a wolf, relentlessly hunting his prey.

Lucifer let out a roar so loud it was felt in every corner of hell. His flesh sparked and melted away, leaving fiery, broken skin in its wake. He surged forwards, taking Michael by surprise—or so he thought—and they both tumbled across the rocks. The angel managed to pin Lucifer down and he let out an agonized cry as a searing, white hot pain entered his right wing. Michael stood, his eyes sparkling with glee as he examined the state of his foe: Maze’s hell-forged blade ran straight through Lucifer’s wing to where it was stuck fast in ground. A pool of blood had begun to form around the wound, soaking Lucifer’s glorious white feathers in a sickening dark red.

“Do not fear, brother. I shall make sure to be kind to her. I will not let her suffer.” And with a gust of wind, Michael left hell, leaving only the carnage that was Lucifer behind as any indication he was there at all.

Lucifer attempted to go after Michael, only to be pulled back down to the ground by the pain in his wing. Unfortunately, his arms weren’t long enough to reach the blade without moving his wings—but with each movement he made, the blade shredded more feathers around his wound, making him howl in torment.

 _Michael had gone for the Detective: to_ kill _her. He couldn’t let that happen. He lov…cared for her deeply._

“Bullocks,” he mumbled. He took a deep breath, steeling himself for the imminent pain he was about to feel. He swung his arm across his body sharply and tried to roll away, in hopes the blade would free itself from both the ground and his wing. The movement only served to send waves of agonizing pain coursing through his wing and he lay back against the rocks, whimpering from the burning throbbing throughout his wing.

Across the path, Maze peeled her eyes open, rubbing at the dull pain in her head where it had connected not-so-kindly with the rock walls. Her eyes widened in terror when they came to rest on Lucifer lying in a pool of blood. She stumbled towards him, her body shaking violently from the effort. When she dropped to her knees beside him, she wiggled the blade from his delicate wing as gently as she could. To her relief, he opened his eyes as soon as the blade had been removed—in fact, the wound began to close almost instantly.

“Lucifer, are you okay?” she asked him.

He clutched at her arm with a wild urgency, “C-Chloe,” he managed to mumble, “he’s gone for Chloe.”

Maze’s eyes grew wide in understanding, yet she pushed Lucifer back down when he tried to stand up.

“Mazikeen, what are you doing?” he questioned, “I’ve just said, the Detective is in danger. We have to save her! You’ve fixed my afflictions. I’ll be alright, but _she_ won’t…let me go.” He demanded.

“Lucifer,” she said in a strangely soothing tone that seemed out of place, coming from the mouth of a demon. “Remember; time passes slower down here than it does out there.” She gave a pointed glance upwards. “You need to heal—which shouldn’t take too much longer—you can’t protect her if you’re hurt.”

Lucifer opened his mouth to argue, but was stopped when she raised her hand in an I’m-not-done-speaking-yet gesture.

“Amenadiel will be keeping a close eye on her, and you know he won’t let anything happen to her.” She took a quick look at his injured wing before continuing. “This is almost healed. Just a few more minutes,” she begged.

 _Bloody hell. Perhaps Maze was correct: he certainly wouldn’t be able to fight Michael—if need be—in his current condition._ He sighed as a signal that he’d given in to Maze’s proposition.

Maze had been right—a few minutes later, Lucifer gave his mighty wings a flap, testing them out. _Good as new._ It had only taken a mere few minutes—yet it had felt like an agonizing few hours to Lucifer, with the knowledge that the Detective was in grave danger.

“Shall we?” he asked impatiently as he gathered Maze into his arms. “We’ve a deranged angel to stop.”

Maze’s eyes shone with desire as thoughts of defeating Michael filled her mind. With a few flaps of Lucifer’s wings—now restored to their full glory—they were soaring back towards earth.


	7. Alone

Chloe stared forlornly into the distance as her fingers absentmindedly ran across the smooth bullet that hung on the necklace he had given her on her birthday, replaying the scene in her mind’s eye.

 _“What is it?”_ She’d asked him.

_“It’s the bullet. From when you shot me. Remember: in the warehouse, earlier in our partnership.”_

She remembered his reaction after she’d shot him. _“Ah, actually, you know, it’s hurting a little bit. It’s…gah…it’s hurting a lot…Son of a bitch, that really hurts.”_ The shocked look on his face. He had bled. Because of her. Because she was near him.

_“If I pushed this into your chest, it would kill you?”_

_“Yes.”_

_“Because I’m close to you?” she whispered, her voice breaking._

_“Yes.”_

_“But you jumped in front of it anyway.”_

_“Yes. And I would do it again. And again. Don’t you know that detective?”_

He loved her. Protected her. Risked his life for her over and over. Spent time with her even though it made him vulnerable. The Devil was willing to die for her. And now he had locked himself away in hell, to ensure no harm ever came to her. Tears began to pool in her eyes.

She’d found the necklace in her room—tossed aside and forgotten in her sparse jewelry box—when she’d been attempting to make her apartment look somewhat presentable for Trixie and Dan to visit. She hadn’t dared remove the necklace since then, and she clung to it now like a lifeline; the only thing preventing her from falling apart further. It was all she had left of him. She’d been wrong to take it off in the first place, to appease Pierce—no, Cain—of all people; the world’s first murderer. She shuddered at the thought: she’d let him into her home, her life. Into _Trixie’s_ life.

Linda shuffled past her, collecting a wailing Charlie from his highchair. She blinked, bringing herself back to reality—she’d been so caught up in her thoughts, she hadn’t even heard the child crying.

“Sorry Linda,” she apologized.

“Don’t worry Chloe,” Linda laid a supportive hand on her shoulder before heading to the kitchen to feed Charlie.

Chloe dropped her head into her hands and sighed. Linda and Amenadiel had been too kind; letting her come over in her spare time. Thankfully, Dan had agreed to take Trixie for awhile, which allowed for her to spend most of her nights in his penthouse at Lux. She was especially grateful for the excess of vacation days she’d collected over the years—she’d been putting those to good use lately, unable to concentrate on her work.

“Are you alright, Chloe?” Amenadiel’s voice pulled her back to the present.

“Yeah, I’ll be okay,” she sniffled, wiping vigorously at her eyes.

He sat down next to her on the couch and wrapped and arm around her shoulders. They sat in comfortable silence for a while before Chloe spoke.

“You said you couldn’t take me to hell because humans can’t travel back and forth. Does that mean I died? Because Lu…” she paused, unable to say his name. “They thought I was alive. But that’s not possible, is it? It’s not like I’m divine.” She laughed at the wild thought, but Amenadiel’s gaze stopped her instantly. “I’m not divine.” She said again, more a question than statement this time.

Amenadiel let out a long sigh, “he didn’t tell you, did he?”

Chloe shook her head slowly. _Tell her what? Was she really an angel?_ Lucifer’s words flashed through her mind, _“Can you take your shirt off please?”_

_“What? Are you serious?”_

_“I need to see your back.” He’d insisted._

_“Why?”_

_“Because I want to know if you’re an angel sent to destroy me,” he’d stated, matter-of-factly._

She had thought it ridiculous at the time, but now…“Oh my God,” she whispered, “am I…”

“No,” Amenadiel said quickly, seemingly able to read her mind, “you’re not an angel. You are just as human as everyone else.”

“But?” Chloe prompted him.

“Well, your parents were having trouble conceiving a child.” Chloe nodded slowly—she knew that. “God sent an angel—me—to bless your parents, give them a child. That child turned out to be you, Chloe.”

“Are you saying I’m a…a…miracle?”

“Yes, you are. It’s possible that you being able to travel to hell has something to do with that.”

Chloe let out a humorless laugh, “of course it does.” She pondered the new information before turning back to Amenadiel. “Am I like…” She felt ridiculous saying it, “Like…Jesus?”

“Not quite,” Amenadiel chuckled.

“Right…of course not.”

“Amenadiel!” Linda’s voice carried in from the kitchen.

“I’m happy to answer any more questions you have, Chloe. We’re here for you.” He laid a hand on her shoulder and gave her a quick smile before disappearing into the kitchen. Chloe pinched the bridge of her nose and flopped back against the couch. If she didn’t die, then how did she get down to hell? Obviously Amenadiel wasn’t the one who took her. She rubbed furiously at her temples, as if that would suddenly bring her the answers she desired—but there was only one thing that she truly desired in that moment: him.

Chloe barely stirred when Linda returned to find that she had fallen asleep on the couch. She covered her tenderly with a blanket and turned out the light, leaving Chloe to sleep in peace.


	8. Way Down We Go

_Bang!_ The front door of Linda and Amenadiel’s house swung open with a crash. Chloe scrambled to her feet, the blanket around her falling to a heap on the floor. She fumbled around in the darkness, heart pounding, searching for the light switch. Her hand instinctively reached towards her side, ready to draw her gun on the intruder.

“Chloe?” a familiar voice called through the darkness: Eve.

Finally, Chloe’s fingers found the light switch, and she squinted as the room was lit up. Eve stood near the doorway, hands covering her eyes against the sudden assault of light.

“Eve? What are you doing here?” Chloe asked, “and in the middle of the night?” A quick glance at the clock on the wall told her it was almost three in the morning.

“Where is he?” she demanded, her dark eyes piercing through the silence.

“Who?” Chloe asked, though she was sure she knew who Eve meant.

Her question was met with a dark glare full of daggers, sharp enough to cut through stone.

“Lucifer.” The word was cold and sharp, and it cut through Chloe’s heart like a knife, leaving behind only a ragged, bloody mess in its wake.

“He’s gone,” was all she could manage to whisper.

“Gone?” Eve let out a small laugh, “gone where?”

Chloe could tell she already knew the answer.

Eve sunk down to the floor, perching on the steps just inside the front door. “No.” The word was a small whimper, a helpless plea. She dropped her head into her hands, unwilling to let the tears fall.

“And Maze?” she asked through her fingers.

“I’m sorry, Eve. She’s there too.” Chloe moved to comfort Eve—while she’d never been fond of her, she had empathy for her.

Eve rose to her feet suddenly; her glare making Chloe stop dead in her tracks.

“This is all your fault.” Eve seethed. “He went back for _you_ , didn’t he?” Less of a question than a statement.

Chloe shook her head in a small, jerking movement.

“Don’t lie to me! This is your fault! Now they’re both gone—because of you!”

“Eve, you’re going to wake…”

“I don’t care! They. Are. Gone. Don’t you get that? If he thinks you’re safer without him, then he won’t come back. _Ever._ And neither will Maze.”

The enormity of her words hit Chloe. Hard. She sunk down to the couch, unbidden tears pooling in her eyes and threatening to drown her in grief. Eve’s look softened at the sight, and she slowly made her way over to Chloe, hesitating before taking a seat next to her.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered finally, “it’s just…I miss him.” _And Maze,_ she didn’t say. “I guess I was just hoping they’d be back by now.”

 _How did Eve know Lucifer and Maze were gone? Could_ she _have somehow been the one who dragged her down to hell?_ Chloe’s eyes must have given her thoughts away, because Eve quickly said, “Amenadiel told me. I’ve been back in LA for a few days.”

 _Of course it couldn’t have been Eve—she doesn’t have wings, she can’t fly._ Chloe raked her fingers through her hair, sniffling.

“He really loved you, you know.” Eve said quietly, breaking the comfortable silence that had fallen between the two.

“I…” Chloe was interrupted by a loud _thump_ that sounded as if it came from the front yard. The two women stilled, holding their breath.

“What was that?” Eve whispered.

Chloe held a finger to her lips, signaling for Eve to be quiet. She stood and crept across the living room, heading for the door. Just as she reached it, the wooden door flew from its hinges, sending splinters flying throughout the room. The blow sent Chloe flying backwards in surprise, and she tumbled down the steps like a rag doll. Her head felt clouded and it pounded as if it were a drum being struck over and over. Eve’s screams managed to pierce through the haze, and she looked up at the…angel...standing in the doorway. His wings were spread wide, and had knocked over countless items in the living room.

If Chloe’s past experience with angels had taught her anything, it was that she always felt comforted—a warming, calming sensation that she couldn’t explain—in their presence. But when she looked into the eyes of this ‘angel,’ every reasonable thought in her body screamed at her to run. His eyes were dark, predatory even, and his demeanor was that of an animal, hunting it’s prey. Chloe backpedaled across the floor until her back hit the couch where Eve still sat, frozen in fear.

The angel flashed a wolfish grin at them. The sight raised goosebumps across Chloe’s skin and the hairs on the back of her neck stood in alarm. _This was wrong._ She shuddered as his reptilian gaze lingered on them, not even blinking once.

He slowly began to make his way down the stairs. Chloe’s heart jumped with every heavy thud his feet made moving across the floor. _Thud. Thud. Thud._ Until he stopped to stand a few feet away from them, regarding them as if trying to decide what to do with them.

“Please, do excuse my manners,” he said matter-of-factly. “My name is Michael.”

Chloe shuddered at the way he spoke: eloquent, yet something behind his tone made him sound dangerous, lethal even.

“What do you want?” Eve asked, putting a protective hand on Chloe’s shoulder. Chloe was shocked by the calmness of Eve’s voice—if the trembling hand resting on her shoulder was any indication, Eve was just as terrified as she was, and rightly so, it seemed.

Michael said nothing. His lips curled upwards into a vicious sneer, and in a flash of light, a sword appeared in his hands, gleaming as if it were its own source of light.

“Ms. Decker.” His words grated across the air, “you wish to see your love again, do you not?”

When Chloe stayed silent, he continued. “I am simply here to make that happen. To reunite two lost lovers. Please, come willingly. You can be together again.” _In death,_ he didn’t say, although Chloe was sure that was what he meant.

The pieces clicked together all at once in her mind: Michael must have been the one who had taken her to hell, and he was obviously here to return her once more.

“Yes, I was the one who took you to hell earlier.” Michael said matter-of-factly, as if he hadn’t just admitted to trying to kill her. “But, with the help of the demon and my daft brothers, you escaped. This time, I shall give you the choice: you can either come willingly or I shall drag you screaming and kicking down there, if I must.”

Chloe flinched at his icy words. He certainly was not joking—she had no doubts of what he would do if she chose not to go with him. She opened her mouth to speak, but before she could, Eve’s hands were dragging her to her feet and pulling her to the back of the room, away from the not-so-angelic angel.

“DO NOT RUN FROM ME.” His voice shook the walls of the house, thundering with the wrath of God behind them. They froze in their tracks and Eve stepped in front of Chloe defiantly.

“Eve, don’t,” Chloe started, but the woman held up a hand to silence her.

“Michael, you will not take her. You have no right.” Again, Chloe was surprised by the confidence that oozed from Eve’s voice, though by the way she fidgeted with her hands, Chloe could tell she was terrified.

Michael pouted at them in mock sympathy. “Dear Eve, you never were one to follow rules, were you?”

Without warning, Eve picked up a vase and hurled it at his head. He grunted as it connected, sending shards of shattered glass flying. Rage bubbled beneath his eyes, making him look even more sinister than before.

Eve turned to Chloe. “Run!” she yelled before picking up anything she could get her hands on and throwing it at Michael in an attempt to distract him. All rational thought flooded from Chloe, a broken dam that was not to be repaired. She took a few stumbling steps backwards, watching with wide eyes the situation unfolding in front of her.

Michael strode forwards, the objects smashing against him doing nothing to deter him. In one swift movement he picked Eve up with one hand and tossed her like a discarded piece of trash across the room. She flew into the wall with a sickening thud, and her body slumped to the ground, blood beginning to pool around her head. Her eyes stared across the room, empty and lifeless.

“No!” Chloe heard herself scream as she ran towards Eve—but she never made it to her side. A large arm wrapped around her, pulling her backwards so sharply that her vision blurred as her head snapped forwards. Michael threw her across the room—luckily not as hard as he’d thrown Eve—and she tumbled into the coffee table. The wood groaned in protest as the full of her weight landed on it and the table snapped in half, sending splinters raining down around Chloe.

She blinked furiously, trying to see through the dark spots that now danced across her vision. The shape of Michael hovered over her, his teeth shining in a wicked, menacing grin. Chloe tried to scramble to her feet, but as she rose, her head was instantly filled with an intense pressure, as if it were about to pop like a balloon. Without warning, her knees buckled and she let out a desperate cry as she crumbled back to the ground in a boneless heap.

“This madness ends now, brother,” came a voice from the direction of what Chloe assumed to be the front door.

“Remiel,” Michael purred, “how nice of you to stop by. Have you come to assist me with my task?”

“I am here to stop you from harming any more humans. It is not Father’s will.”

“Dear Remiel, I am not here because of Father’s will.”

Even through the black dots in her vision—that were thankfully beginning to go away—Chloe could make out the look of shock on the other angel’s face.

“She must come with me,” Michael gestured towards Chloe, “she _must_ die.”

“You are foolish to think that, brother.”

Chloe rubbed frantically at her eyes, the pounding in her head slowly dying down.

“And you are foolish to question me, sister.” Michael regarded Remiel for a moment before he lunged towards her.

Instincts kicking in, Chloe drew her gun and fired once. Twice. Again. And again. Michael halted in his tracks and drew his ruthless, homicidal gaze to Chloe. _Fuck. Fuckity fuck. He’s a freaking_ angel, _of course bullets won’t harm him._ Chloe shrunk back hoping—no, praying—that by some miracle he wouldn’t decide to come after her. His eyes grew wide and he seemed to shrink back a step as Amenadiel defiantly stepped in front of her.

“Go home, Michael.” Amenadiel’s voice boomed. “You’ve made your point, brother. Now leave.”

Michael sneered at the thought of giving in to such a demand—one that came from his brother, no less. Michael lunged with inhuman speed towards Amenadiel, and they began their fight. Chloe suddenly felt as if the room was spinning and she was barely able to focus on the blurred shapes brawling in front of her. She at least had enough sense to drag herself to the corner of the room, where she assumed she would be the safest.

Remiel peeled herself from the ground, and now joined in the fight too, but from what Chloe could tell, Michael was strong—and unfortunately, he appeared to be a skilled fighter too. It took both of them to just barely hold the other angel at bay.

“Eve!” Chloe heard the distorted screams—they sounded so familiar—but she wasn’t coherent enough to place a name to the voice. Another figure had entered through the front door and was now crouched down by Eve’s side, shaking her and screaming at her to wake up. The world spun more violently now, her stomach churning along with it, and Chloe thought she might be sick. The black spots in her vision grew until she wasn’t able to make out the room any longer. She slumped to the ground in defeat, and the whole world around her melted away until she was no longer able to see or hear anything.


	9. Unsteady

Chloe awoke with a comforting heat pressed along her back. It cradled her head and occasionally ran through her hair, pulling it from her face. Her eyelids were heavy and she wasn’t able to force them open just yet. She thought she heard someone sobbing quietly, but she felt warm and safe and snuggled deeper into the reassuring heat. Soon, she had fallen back asleep.

******

Amenadiel sat beside Maze, rubbing her back, occasionally mumbling things like “it’ll be okay,” and “I know it hurts.” He wasn’t sure Maze was even in a state where she was able to hear him—she held Eve’s head gently in her lap and was stroking her too-pale cheeks and running her fingers through her dark, bloodstained hair. Hysterical tears streamed down her face—normally, Maze would never let anyone catch her crying, but she was too distraught to care.

Lucifer sat in the corner of the room, delicately holding Chloe against his chest. He cautiously reached up, removing strands of her long blonde hair from her face—she looked so peaceful. He was exceedingly grateful that Maze and him had arrived in time to be able to save Chloe, though unfortunately, the same could not be said for dear Eve. He glanced across the room to where Maze was now holding Eve’s hand, whispering to her through her tears. Lucifer squeezed his eyes shut and his arms protectively tightened around Chloe as he buried his nose in her hair. _Dear Dad, had he missed her. But this was why he had left in the first place: to protect her. This was all_ his _fault; Eve’s death, the reason why Chloe was injured in the first place, and the reason why she may never be safe again._ Lucifer exhaled and pressed a soft kiss to Chloe’s temple. He knew what he had to do.

******

When Chloe woke, she was sad to find that the comforting heat—whatever it had been, whether she’d hallucinated it or not—was gone. She felt empty once more. She slowly opened her eyes, squinting as the light seared into them, to see Linda hovering over her. Linda moved, and Chloe felt something cold press against her forehead.

“Hey, Chloe, how are you feeling?” Linda removed the chilled cloth and wet it again before pressing it back to Chloe’s forehead.

“Mm,” Chloe mumbled. Her head felt as though someone had tried to smash it in two. _Someone had tried to smash it..._ Chloe squinted as she tried to remember the events that occurred last night. _Michael._ It all came rushing back to her so fast, the memories threatened to drown her.

“Eve.” She managed to utter. Chloe didn’t miss the way Linda’s smile faltered when she said her name. “She didn’t…” A small shake of Linda’s head confirmed her suspicions: Eve was dead. Chloe felt as if her world was crumbling down around her, burying her alive.

“Michael?”

Linda’s eyes hardened into a cold look she’d never seen the therapist use.

“He has been taken care of,” Amenadiel’s voice carried through the room.

Linda nodded, “Amenadiel and Remiel made sure of that,” she added, her voice shaking—with rage or fear, Chloe wasn’t sure.

“Charlie?”

“He’s fine, as soon as we heard the commotion out here Amenadiel flew us to safety.” Linda threw an adoring glance in the angel’s direction.

“And Maze?” Chloe asked weakly. “Is she okay?”

Linda peered at Amenadiel, before turning back to Chloe and cautiously choosing her words. “Maze is…dealing with Michael.”

“Oh,” Chloe replied softly, not sure she wanted to know what that meant. Linda glanced at Amenadiel before turning back to Chloe, mouth opened like she was about to say something. Amenadiel’s firm hand on her shoulder stopped her and she snapped her mouth shut. Chloe was too exhausted to question the odd exchange, and soon succumbed to sleep.

******

“Hey, you okay?” Amenadiel’s voice was soft as he entered the kitchen, laying his hands on Linda’s tensed shoulders.

She nodded a little too sharply as she sealed a bottle for baby Charlie, failing at her attempt to muffle her sniffles.

“Hey,” Amenadiel gently turned her to face him. Linda’s watery, round eyes stared back at him.

“Eve is _dead_.” Linda took a shaky breath, trying to compose herself. “And we…Did we do the right thing, Amenadiel?” she asked, lowering her voice so there was no chance of it escaping the kitchen and finding it’s way to Chloe’s ears.

“Yes,” He paused, uncertainty briefly flashing across his features. “It would break her to know that he was here.”

Linda eyed him warily, still not convinced.

“You saw her after she returned from hell. How it broke her. She’s strong, but I’m not sure she would be able to handle the heartbreak again.”

Linda sighed, “You’re right. I just…I don’t like lying to her.”

“I know,” Amenadiel wrapped his arms around Linda, pulling her into a comforting hug, “but it’s for the best.”

Linda nodded weakly in agreement, leaning against him for support. “I know,” she whispered, “but that doesn’t make it any easier.”


	10. Perfect

_Three months later._

Chloe sat at her desk sorting through her stack of paperwork. Since her ‘adventure’ to hell—and her less than kind run in with Michael—she’d finally started going to work more regularly: it was a welcome distraction. She still wasn’t herself though. She never could be without him there. At least she had accepted the fact that she would never be able to fill the void in her heart created by his absence. To make it all worse, she wasn’t even able to explain to Ella or Dan where Lucifer had gone. She’d grown apart from them recently, unable to talk to them without getting upset at their lack of understanding. She knew it wasn’t their fault, but she couldn’t help getting frustrated with them. As a result of this, she found she’d grown quite close to Linda and Amenadiel. When she wasn’t at the penthouse, she’d spent most of her time with them. Helping with baby Charlie was a refreshing distraction, and at least they understood the extent of what she was going through: her life would never be the same without him.

She sniffled and rubbed at her eyes. She was _not_ going to cry again. She’d done enough of that in the past nine months. She returned her focus back towards her paperwork, determined to distract herself with it. She’d finally managed to block out all the noises around her in the precinct, so when there was a flurry of commotion as people surrounded the man who’d just walked down the stairs, she didn’t even notice. She still didn’t see him as he squirmed his way through the crowd and made his way straight towards her desk.

“Detective! I’m back!” She froze at the sound of his voice, afraid to look up and find that it was just her imagination playing cruel tricks on her. But when he spoke again, she knew it was real. He was real.

“Detective?”

She looked up from her desk, eyes meeting his. Without hesitating she jumped up, sending her chair clattering to the floor behind her, and ran into his arms. He was still weak from the journey back to earth and the weight of her body colliding against his sent them both flying backwards, falling into a heap on the floor.

“You’re here,” she whispered, holding his face.

“I’m here,”

“I love you so much,” she breathed before pulling his face to hers, kissing him right there on the floor in the middle of the precinct.

When she finally pulled back, they both became suddenly aware of the surrounding officers staring at them. Chloe cleared her throat and quickly climbed to her feet, grabbing Lucifer’s hand and dragging him up with her.

“Lucifer!” Ella ran across the precinct and wrapped him in a long hug.

“Ms. Lopez,” he greeted her with his silky voice, his dark eyes never leaving Chloe’s.

“I knew you’d come back,” Ella mumbled into his chest, smiling brightly.

Chloe gripped his hand tightly, refusing to let go as the officers welcomed him back, one by one. Once everyone had greeted him, he pulled her into his arms again. She buried her face in his chest, inhaling his scent. For the first time in ages, she felt whole again. She could breathe again. She sighed into his chest, feeling a familiar sense of comforting heat and felt his arms tighten protectively around her.

“I am so sorry,” he said quietly, “I never wanted…” She reached up and kissed him, cutting him off.

“It’s okay,” she said softly, resting her forehead against his. “You’re here now, that’s all that matters. Promise me that you’ll stay?”

“Well, Mazikeen and Eve are now having a hell of a time running hell together,” he paused, chuckling at his own joke, “so I won’t ever have the need to permanently return there. I promise, I will never leave you again.”

Tears of happiness began to fall down her face.

“Detective? Have I upset you?”

She giggled before pulling his mouth to hers once more. “I’m just really happy that you’re here.”

******

When they arrived at Lux, Chloe had still refused to let go of Lucifer’s hand, afraid that this was simply another dream she might wake up from. They barely made it into the elevator before they were kissing again, more fervently this time. Lucifer’s fingers fumbled at the buttons on the front of her shirt before he pulled back, whispering “bloody hell,” under his breath.

“Lucifer,” she grabbed his hands, stopping him, “are you…nervous?”

He thought about it for a moment before answering her, “why yes, I believe I am.” A small chuckle of surprise tumbled from his lips at the admission.

“Why? You’ve done this a million times before.” _Probably more than that, but…_

“Yes…but never with you, Chloe. What if it’s not perfect?”

Her heart shattered into a million pieces. “It will be,” she promised him.

“But how can you be certain?”

“Because I love you,” she said softly, planting a tender kiss on his mouth.

“Oh.”

He’d never done this before, she realized. Not with someone he cared so deeply for.

She gently moved his hands back to the buttons on her shirt—giving him unspoken permission to continue—before standing on her tip toes to kiss him again. The elevator doors opened and their clothes were hastily thrown throughout the penthouse as they made their way to his bed. She pulled him down onto the satin sheets, looking deep into his dark eyes.

“I love you,” she whispered, running her fingers through his dark hair.

“I love you, too,” he replied quietly before covering her mouth with his. They sunk into the sheets, holding each other tightly, bodies pressed together. Chloe committed every touch, every sensation to her memory. They would never let go of each other again.

******

Chloe woke the next morning to find her body still wrapped tightly around his—she’d had every inch of her body touched, kissed, loved, worshiped. She shifted slightly, letting the rhythmic thumps of his heartbeat fill her ear. She snuggled closer to him, basking in the warmth of his body, the touch of his skin against hers. She wished they could lie like that forever, until the end of time. She let her fingers trace lazy circles across his chest. He hummed and let out a contented sigh as he started to wake up.

“Good morning,” she whispered, pressing a kiss to his chest.

“Mmm,”

Chloe lifted herself up onto her elbows and ran her fingers through his disheveled hair. He leaned into her touch and slowly opened his eyes. She kissed him, slowly working her way from his chest to his neck, then his jaw. His arms wrapped around her as her lips found his and he pulled her close, holding her tightly, as if he was afraid she would disappear into thin air if he let go.

Eventually, her head found its way back to its resting place on his chest. She reveled in the feel of his warm body pressed against hers, sending tingles across her skin, and in the way his arms enveloped her protectively; a silent promise of his love for her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you all enjoyed this last chapter! I know it left a lot of questions unanswered, which is why I'm currently working on a sequel in order to answer those questions (and of course bring you all more Deckerstar scenes) so stay tuned for that!  
> Thank you to everyone who left comments throughout this story, it means a lot to me to hear your feedback! ❤️


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